


love in midair

by beanierose



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, because i'm gay and i can do what i want, happy easter he is risen, this is a smudgy timeline where there's no david and certain RL events are ignored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose
Summary: if something seems too good to be true, quick!  put it in your mouth! (before anything can go wrong!)
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 16
Kudos: 138





	love in midair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stutter/gifts).



> some of you may have seen that a few weeks back, my friends and i did a little [fic exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/isolation_creation_station) to keep ourselves busy during quarantine! that whole thing was stutter's idea. since we each picked three prompts — and since stutter deserves the world — i decided to fill the other two she chose. that's this! it has absolutely nothing to do with easter, sorry bout it.
> 
> thank you [chappedstick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chappedstick/pseuds/chappedstick) and [sycamoretrees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamoretrees) for looking this over for me and cheering me on, i love you both very much

The title is from Chen Chen's _Summer Was Forever_

* * *

“How’d you do?” Katya demands, before Trixie has even gotten the door all the way open.

He laughs like a jackal, his head thrown back, and lets Katya into the apartment. “Oh wow. I missed you too, girl.”

Trixie has been home for a whole month, but Katya is freshly back from fucking Australia. He’s been lamenting for weeks that he wasn’t here to welcome Trixie home. That he couldn’t needle him for insider information while he was at his most raw. He tried, over texts and calls and FaceTime, but Trixie kept insisting that he wouldn’t break the NDA.

 _Some of us_ , he said the first time Katya called him, _are not about to spill our guts to Fena or any other bitch_.

“You did good, didn’t you.” Katya still feels fidgety and frantic coming off of the flight, even though he’s had a night of sleep since. It was unpleasant, and he woke up with a crick in his neck and a disorienting taste in his mouth. Trixie has settled himself on the couch and he’s watching Katya pace back and forth in front of the living room window, unable to be still. He whips around and jabs an accusatory finger in Trixie’s direction. “I know you did. Of course you did. You don’t gotta even say it out loud. Just nod or somethin’.”

Trixie laces his fingers together and rests them behind his stupid bald head, reclining back into the couch a little more. He looks good. He looks really fucking good. His skin isn’t so pale from being in the studio sixteen hours a day. A month out, he’s golden and soft. His pink sweatpants stretch over his thighs, and when he shifts Katya can see the shadow of his dick. Just an outline, but it’s making him nuts.

“I didn’t bring shame and dishonour upon our family,” Trixie says slowly, and one corner of his mouth tugs up in a pleased little smirk.

Katya crows like he’s the one who’s achieved something and scuttles over to Trixie. He drops down heavily on the couch cushion next to him and flings his arms around his neck. Trixie hugs back, one arm cradling Katya’s head. His breathing is coming in these tiny shuddering gasps against Katya’s neck, so he stays right where he is to let him level out again.

“Katya,” he says, and lifts his head. “Really- I missed you a lot. I think they got footage of me saying it, so that’s fun and cool. Not embarrassing at all.”

He scoots back on the couch a little ways so he can look at Trixie properly. They hung out a couple days before Trixie left for filming, but that was the end of July and now they’re barely a week out from October. The whole summer gone, spent separately.

“Sure,” Katya says easily. “I missed you as well.”

“No. Brian. Like-” Trixie cuts himself off and scrubs both hands over his face in frustration. It’s very cute. Trixie is. . . he’s _cute_. Katya’s always thought that, and he’s only getting cuter even if he is growing into his Dr. Evil fantasy more and more every time Katya sees him. “All that time away-”

“A lot of time away!” Katya gets up from the couch again because he still feels galvanised and twitchy. “Almost like you made it right to the very end, wouldn’t you say?”

He loops around to the kitchen and gets a seltzer for each of them from Trixie’s perfectly stocked refrigerator. Katya fights the urge to launch it at him from across the room, instead padding right over to put it into Trixie’s hands so it doesn’t get shaken up and spray an aggressive jet all over him when he pops the tab. See, Mary? He’s learning.

“I am _not_ about to tell you how it went, you fucking criminal!” Trixie says sharply, and then he deflates, and says more quietly, “I missed you the most.” He takes a too-large gulp of seltzer and has to close his eyes, and Katya studies him.

It’s early afternoon in Los Angeles, and dreamy-hot. Trixie’s still All Stars-thin, and his skin is smooth and glowing and freckled just at the tops of his shoulders. His arms. His nose. He’s warm to the touch, and Katya wants to touch him. He always does. Tenderness for Trixie propels him to capture his hands out of the air to hold, shackle Trixie’s wrists in his slender fingers, tuck his feet beneath Trixie’s thigh when they’re hanging out together on one of their couches.

“Yeah, honey. I. . . I know what it’s like, you know?” Katya lifts one shoulder in a little shrug. He remembers it. This time last year, how excited he’d been to get back into his life. How much he’d missed Trixie, while he’d been away.

Trixie’s eyes pop open again and he puts his seltzer can down on the little table beside the couch. “No you _don’t_.”

Katya gulps. Adrenaline floods him and he shifts his weight to the balls of his feet. Mad Trixie is- it’s not unpleasant. He likes to see Trixie worked up, see how he sets his jaw and his eyes get dark. How the tendons in the backs of his hands flex.

“Okay. So then tell me.” Katya comes back to the couch again and folds himself onto it, cross-legged at the opposite end from Trixie. He’s sloshed his own seltzer onto his hand and he sucks on the webbing between his thumb and index finger.

Trixie makes a tiny, strangled noise. “I thought about you the whole fucking time. Every single stupid thing that happened, I just wanted to tell you about it. I wanted to hear your awful laugh, and I wanted to know what you’d say.”

“I would _love_ for you to tell me. I’ve been asking, Tracy.”

“Shut _up_!” Trixie shrieks. The windows are open, and there’s music coming from down the block. The air smells like barbecue, like people making the most of the summer before it’s gone. Trixie draws one leg up onto the couch and props his chin on his bent knee, says, “Would you listen to me? Please, hello, thank you.” Katya shows Trixie the flats of his palms and chomps down on his tongue, tries to look appropriately chastened. Trixie says, “I thought about you. . . every night. And I, uh- I got hard.”

Katya makes a loud, startled noise, and thrashes so violently that he almost topples right off the couch onto Trixie’s living room floor. He’s very still, just watching Katya react to that, his cheeks getting faintly more pink. Once Katya has collected himself he leans forwards into Trixie’s space, his hands planted against the couch cushion, and he says, “Trixie Mattel, did you jack off thinking about me, you sick little freak?”

“Only once!” Trixie says, aghast, and Katya tumbles over again, shivering with pleasure.

Like, that’s a lot.

Right before Trixie left, something started happening. They hit their stride on the show, and they were in the same city for more than four days at a time for the first time ever. They spent long days together, letting the sun warm their skin, letting the high points of their faces get too pink. They walked a lot, got ice cream, hiked. Held hands, and never ever talked about any of it out loud. Katya can’t smell sunscreen now without thinking of Trixie. And more than once, they’d gone back to someone’s apartment together to rinse off the sand and sticky heat of the day and they’d wound up together in one of their beds.

It felt good. It felt really good, to lie half asleep next to Trixie and feel him warm and solid and right there. To wake up in the morning with their bare thighs glued together and Trixie all sleepy and shy, the way he’d huff a little breath when he opened his eyes to Katya.

“Cool,” Katya says, but he’s sure his face must be doing something different than how level his voice sounds, because Trixie lifts both eyebrows and stares him down. Trixie is singularly-focused, tenacious. When he wants something, he makes it happen. Katya, spooked, finds himself saying, “That’s. . . okay. Cool.”

“It doesn’t need to like, _be_ anything. Just. I realised some stuff, I guess. While I was inside.”

Katya grins, delighted. “I love how you make it sound like prison. You think you’d fare well in a maximum security facility, Tallulah?”

“I don’t know, I have a lot of experience with maximum _in_ security, you fuckin’ psycho,” Trixie volleys right back. He’s smiling too.

Katya gets a strange flash of how Trixie might’ve looked. In the shower — he wouldn’t want the hotel staff to know what he’d done —his head bowed over his own fist. The water beating down against his broad shoulders, his back, running in rivers down his thighs. Him whispering Katya’s name. It is _embarrassing_ , how often Katya’s done the same.

“Just out of scientific curiosity,” Katya says. “What would happen if it _were_ to be something?”

He’s still adjusting to being in the same room as Trixie. It doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel like he ought to be able to just reach out and touch all of that lovely, sun-warm skin, but he can. He wants to. Katya shuffles forwards on the couch and takes Trixie’s hand, threads their fingers together. He has to duck his chin to get into Trixie’s field of vision.

“I think I want more than you’re able to give, right now,” Trixie says, but he doesn’t let go of Katya’s hand.

Katya takes the impact of that and lets it sit for a moment, exists here in the knowledge that Trixie’s not wrong. He is, historically, very bad at this. He has a lot of love in his heart. He just can’t seem to make it stick. These days, though, he’s kind of been thinking maybe that’s because he’s never tried with Trixie before.

“Hey, you know something?” Katya squeezes Trixie’s fingers until he lifts his head and their eyes meet. “I didn’t fuck anyone. While I was gone. Not one time.”

There were nights he was bored or lonely or both and he opened Craigslist, but he always found himself scrolling mindlessly around for a while and then tossing his phone down to the end of the bed in a snit. He knew what he wanted, and he sure wasn’t gonna find it in fuckin’ Australia.

“You didn’t?” Trixie says very quietly.

Katya lifts their clasped hands up to press them against his cheek, leaning into that touch and feeling something like pleasure rumble in his chest. “I didn’t,” he confirms. “This is like, deeply tragic, but. . . you have been my longest and most committed relationship.”

“That _is_ tragic,” Trixie says. His fingers are right next to Katya’s lips and he wants to suck them into his mouth, wants to bite, wants to snap his teeth just to see Trixie writhe and gasp. “Listen. I know I have a debilitatingly robust ego, but- something was gonna happen, right? With us? That wasn’t just me?”

“It wasn’t just you,” Katya says immediately. “Something has _been_ happening, the whole time we’ve known each other, don’t you think?”

Trixie’s hand — the one not entangled with Katya’s — is in a fist against his knee. This close, Katya can smell the day on him, detergent and cologne and just _Trixie_ , and it makes his mouth fill with saliva. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anybody so much in his life.

“Katya. Being gone, I realised all the things that matter most. All the things I couldn’t wait to come back to. And. . . none of them are as important to me as you.” Trixie looks bashful, his face round and uncertain, and Katya can’t help it.

It isn’t like moving forward. It’s like no longer holding back.

He tumbles towards Trixie and fists both hands in his shirt right at the neck, uses that grip to haul Trixie in close and kiss him. He tastes like fucking strawberry chapstick and Katya hums a contented noise. When he breaks away to breathe for just a second, Trixie whines and chases his mouth. His tongue touches Katya’s bottom lip and he groans and opens to him, climbs on top of him on the couch without really thinking about it.

“Is this like. . . is this good?” Katya asks. Trixie gets his palm against Katya’s dick instead of answering, through his jeans. His hips shudder forwards into that touch and Trixie laughs at him. “Okay, bitch.”

“Wanna know something super gay?” Trixie says conspiratorially. He’s still working his fingers over the bulge of Katya’s cock in his pants, and Katya isn’t sure that he has the higher processing power available to know _anything_ at this time, but he manages to nod. Trixie lifts his head and kisses Katya again, just quickly, before he says, “It took not seeing you for two months to realise that I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, my god,” Katya says.

He kisses Trixie again, and he remembers that he has hands, too. He wrestles his way inside of Trixie’s pink sweats and wraps his fingers around Trixie’s dick immediately. He’s seen it, plenty of times. They’re drag queens, Helen. He’s seen almost all of his colleagues naked, and they’ve all seen him too. He hasn’t ever touched Trixie like this though. He gives himself time to adjust to the weight of Trixie’s cock in his grip, how warm and smooth and tender his skin is, how he’s already so wet that it’s made a dark patch on the front of his sweatpants.

It feels good. It feels really good, to touch him, but Katya wants more. He breaks apart from their kiss and looks down at Trixie, blushing and twitching with want beneath him. “Hello hi. I love you, too. You want me to blow you?”

“ _Fuck_.” Trixie’s head thuds against the back of the couch and his eyes close.

The sun has dipped low enough that it’s coming in through the slats in the blinds and it bisects Trixie’s throat. Katya leans in and opens his mouth over that soft skin, scrapes his teeth, sucks hard enough to leave a mark. He feels juvenile, adolescent, unsafe with want. He slides easily off the couch and settles between Trixie’s spread knees. Katya hooks both hands in the waistband of Trixie’s sweats and says, “Lift up for me, baby?”

Trixie does, arching up to let Katya get his pants off. He debates leaving them around Trixie’s ankles — he’s _that_ desperate — but he wants them to be able to move. He extracts Trixie’s feet from his sweats and then, because Trixie’s stripped his shirt off over his head and Katya feels ridiculous, he hurries out of his own clothes too.

“God, you are outrageously sexy, you gigantic fucking bitch,” Katya says. He hears Trixie’s sharp inhale in response, hears him gearing up to screech, but he leans in and gets his mouth around the head of Trixie’s cock before he gets the chance.

He’s moaning immediately, can’t help himself. Trixie tastes so good, and one of his hands is at the back of Katya’s head and threading through his hair. Katya leans forward and swallows down as much of Trixie as he can, just to hear the noise that he makes. Trixie’s thighs are trembling already. Katya likes this the best, he thinks. The weight of Trixie’s dick in his mouth, the way he’s trembling.

“Oh, fuck, _Katya_ ,” Trixie says desperately, and yanks on one of Katya’s ears. “You- _fuck_. I’m gonna- Katya, please.” He doesn’t let up, sucks a little harder, and when Trixie comes he swallows him down and groans around him.

Trixie, when Katya lifts his head to look at him, is panting and spent, his body rag-dolled against the back of the couch. His mouth opens, and he makes a tiny noise. Katya kisses his softening dick and gets up from the floor, clambers half into his lap.

“Sorry,” Trixie says, and Katya kisses him. Trixie’s tongue swipes inside of Katya’s mouth eagerly, and he realises that he can taste himself. It feels fucking incredible to be pressed against him, to be touching so much of his bare skin. Katya’s hard cock is against Trixie’s thigh and he rocks his hips, one arm hooked around Trixie’s neck.

“Don’t you dare apologise. That was so fucking hot.”

Trixie laughs and takes another kiss from Katya. He stays close when they separate, their foreheads pressed together. “I’ve waited a really fucking long time, Katya.”

“I know baby,” Katya tells him. He can’t stop touching him, his fingers flirting with the inside of Trixie’s bicep, his bare thigh, the crease of his hip. “Who knew this was all I needed to do to shut you up, this whole time?”

When Trixie’s fingers find him, Katya’s whole body jolts and he hides his face against the side of Trixie’s neck. He’s so wet, slick with precum, and Trixie works him easily, says, “Hey, if you want to fuck right now, you’re gonna have to let me go douche.”

“No, this is good,” Katya tells him. “Fuck, this is _so_ good.” He could’ve come just from blowing Trixie, probably, if he’d had a little longer.

Katya feels sweat collecting at the backs of his knees, the insides of his elbows, the base of his neck. His hips are shifting restlessly against the couch cushions, and Trixie is still jacking him off. It’s good, it feels amazing to have Trixie touching him, but the angle isn’t quite right, and the rhythm isn’t what Katya’s used to. He covers Trixie’s hand with his own to show him, to slow him down a little. The way their bodies are mashed together is gross, uncoordinated, and Katya doesn’t care at all. He knows his hair is probably sticking up from his head at funky angles, and he can hear himself making these tiny keening noises, but whatever. Trixie’s chest is all red and blotchy. Trixie just came after not even two minutes of Katya blowing him.

“Oh, Trixie, Trixie.” Katya arches violently and finds Trixie’s mouth, kisses him sloppily.

Trixie laughs into Katya’s mouth, and then pulls back to narrow his eyes at him. “If you get come on my couch I will fucking murder you.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Katya says. With somebody else, he might be humiliated by the way his voice sounds, but this is Trixie. This is Trixie, and he loves him. “You just came in my fucking mouth. You don’t need to convince me that you’re gay, you incorrigible fag. I got it.”

They’re both laughing when Katya comes, all over their hands. He does his best to angle his hips and protect Trixie’s fucking pink velour couch cushions, and Trixie works him through it until he stops shuddering. They lay there for a little while, Trixie half on top of Katya and his cheek against Katya’s chest.

It feels good. It feels so fucking good to be held, to hold Trixie, to feel his breathing starting to level out. Katya isn’t afraid, not like he thought he might be, all those times he imagined this happening. Trixie’s his best friend. Him being gone from the face of the earth for almost a month was so completely awful, and Katya knows now. Whatever happens, he needs Trixie in his life.

“I think I won,” Trixie says very softly.

Katya gets warm all over with the particular pleasure of being validated. He knew. He knew the second Trixie called him, breathless and shrill with joy, to say that they’d asked him to do All Stars. He knew Trixie was going to do well, going to make it right to the end.

“Of course you did,” Katya says. “I don’t fuck losers.”

Trixie makes a soft little noise, says, “You wanna come shower?” and Katya kisses the top of his smooth, bald head.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you are all staying safe and well! i'm around on [tumblr](https://katiehoughton.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/reallybeanie) if you want to chat ♡


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